Éomer x OC - Deep down chapter 5
Chapter 4 | Masterlist
Éomer lied in his bed. On his back. Then on his side. Then on his back again. After the fifth change of his position he decided that there was no use in pretending he would be able to actually fall asleep that night and just got up.
He dressed himself up and left his room. A little walk around the palace cloister would help him clear his mind. And oh boy was it cluttered.
Still fresh images from the Great War were haunting him. Every single battle, every single combat. He kept repeating names of the friends he has lost. He remembered the light disappearing from each single pair of eyes he helped to close for eternity.
Being a warrior you had to get used to all of this but in a way - you never could.
Éomer couldn’t help but feel there was something wrong with him. He never heard any of the men talk about this kind of feeling. Well, maybe if they were very very drunk and it was very very late. Digging up the past was for women. Getting a grip of one’s self was for men, right? That's what was expected from them. As a king he should shine as an example, leader of the new strong Riddermark to the bright future. And yet he was falling apart.
Once his self-torture journey reached the lowest point of the ride which was the clear image of Éowyn laying on the fields of Pelennor he stopped walking. He approached the balustrades, leaned against it and put his head in his hands.
He shook his head as if to try shaking these images of his memory. But there was nothing that could erase this.
He was so close to losing her. The only family he had left. The only light in his life. His sweet, little sister he swore to protect. His only job was to keep her safe and yet he failed even in that. He stood there, looking at the overwhelming beauty of the land he had honour to rule and he felt like a complete wreck and a failure of a man. He did not even notice he started to sob. He allowed himself to let a few tears roll down his face.
After having composed himself he wiped the tears off and looked to both his sides. He noticed that on his right there was a young guard trying so very hard to look like he did not just see the king crying. Éomer just looked straight ahead and spat.
Without even looking at the guard he grunted: - You saw nothing, am I clear?
Éomer heard the guard's armor clatter as he nodded his head.
The king aimed back to his bedroom, but stopped by the pantry, hoping that a big sip of a strong liquor would help him get at least a few hours of sleep that night.
Chapter 6
Art by devinez
